Bad Things
by Cas-Wings
Summary: The Bat's true identity has finally been discovered, and Joker would be remissed if he didn't do something with the information. How fitting, then, that his anniversary with Harley was just around the corner. The gift he gives far surpasses any others.


_**((**TW** This is not a nice fic, especially if you're a Batman fan. It will get dark, and has some non-con elements and a bit of violence. If this will disturb you, please click away now. If not, read and enjoy!))**_

* * *

Bruce Wayne: Billionaire, Philanthropist... Batman?

It seemed unlikely, almost impossible, the conflicting schedules alone should've been enough to discredit the find. But the money trail didn't lie, and once Wayne's house had been bugged, there was no question.

Batman's identity had finally been uncovered.

Throwing his head back, Joker let out a sadistic laugh, crushing security camera photos in his fist.

* * *

"What is it, Puddin'? We've been sittin' here for almost an hour, I'm so excited I think I'll burst," Harley said, leaning over to rest her chin on Joker's shoulder.

Joker wrapped a possessive arm around Harley's shoulders, running his short nails against her skin. "All in good time, my darling. Bad things come to those who wait."

"Bad things, huh? Am I allowed to guess?"

Before Joker had the chance to respond, his phone pinged.

 _Everything's ready for you, boss._

Grinning, Joker pushed Harley back into her seat and started the car. "Time to go," he said, flooring the gas pedal.

The estate they pulled up to was was quiet. Thanks to careful planning, it was empty for their taking, divest of all staff and security.

"A mansion?" Harley asked, stepping from the car when Joker yanked her door open. "Is it ours?"

Joker chuckled. "Not even close," he said, sauntering up to the front entrance to throw the door open with a flourish. "Guess again."

Harley stepped inside, her tall heels echoing against sleek marble tile. Looking around, she smiled and bit her bottom lip. "Are we gonna burn it down? Kill the owner?"

"As... _Tempting_ as that is," Joker purred, sliding up behind Harley to press himself against her, "this isn't just any house."

"Oh?" Harley breathed, reaching back to run her long fingers through Joker's hair.

Joker bit at the junction where Harley's neck met her bare shoulder. "That's right," he whispered, sliding his hands around to rest upon her lower abdomen. "This is Bruce Wayne's house, who just so happens to be _him_."

There was no question as to who Joker was talking about. Bruce Wayne, though? Was it that simple?

But it couldn't be, they had never been able to figure him out. They'd always had to draw the Bat out, wait in the shadows 'til he showed up in all his squeaky latex glory. To discover who he was, to find the place he resided was invaluable.

Gasping, Harley turned, red mouth widening into a maniacal smile. "So if we ain't gonna burn it down or kill 'im, what're we gonna do?"

"We," Joker said, grabbing the back of Harley's neck to lead her upstairs, "are going to wait for the great Bruce Wayne to return. And when he does, he'll never look at this house or his bedroom the same. Tonight, Puddin', is a special night."

* * *

The charity gala had been a roaring success. Through Wayne Enterprises, more than half a million dollars had been raised for underprivileged children in Gotham city. Bruce was more than satisfied, and in celebration stayed out later than usual.

It was no surprise, then, to come home to a quiet house. Alfred would have been in bed long before, and Bruce didn't usually check on his small security staff. If something was wrong, he'd know.

Loosening the black tie about his neck, he headed straight for his bedroom. He needed a shower and a long night's sleep- permitting Batman wasn't needed. Just as he was about to enter his room, his phone pinged.

 _Knock knock._

Heart sinking, Bruce hovered over the reply button. It couldn't be the Joker, this was his personal number, this was Bruce Wayne's phone. Another ping sounded.

 _You're supposed to say who's there._

Anger mixing with the panic within him, Bruce began typing out a response. A third message came before he could finish.

 _Who's there...? Hmm... Who could it be, who could it be?_

Bruce finished his message and hit send.

 _I don't care who this is, do not contact this number again._

A final ping sounded, but it didn't come from Bruce's phone. It came from inside his bedroom. Breath halting, Bruce reached for the sidearm he kept beneath his suit jacket, drawing before slowly pushing his door open.

"Batty!" Joker exclaimed, staring over Harley's shoulder from her seated position upon his lap. "So good of you to join us!"

Raising his weapon, Bruce cocked the revolver with an audible click. "Don't move," he commanded, advancing further into the room.

"Aww, ain't he cute!" Harley said with a wild smile, grinding her ass against Joker's crotch.

Bruce's stomach turned at the sight. They were seated at the edge of his bed. Joker was in nothing but suit trousers, and Harley was left barley covered in flashy purple lingerie. "I said don't move." He took another step forward.

"Ah, ah, ah," Joker chided, giving Bruce pause as he held up some sort of remote control. "I wouldn't get too close. You do know how _cagey_ I can get." He let out a maniacal laugh. "Wanna know somethin'? Huh, Brucie? Wanna hear my _dirty_ ," he slid his free hand into Harley's bra, " _little_ ," he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, " _secret_?"

Harley let out a moan, letting her head fall back to rest on Joker's shoulder. "I think he wants to know, Daddy."

"You think so, Puddin'?" Joker replied, squeezing her breast roughly. "Okay, Batman," he spat, letting the name fall from his lips like poison. "I'll tell ya. If you take another step forward, I hit this _liiiittle_ red button. When I do, this whole place burns to the ground."

"You're bluffing," Bruce tried, taking one more step.

"Looks like our boy here wants 'ta die or somethin'," Harley said.

"Looks like it," Joker agreed, letting his thumb hover over the button. "Wanna test me, Batty? Wanna see how far I'll go? 'Cause right now, with this lapful of perfection," he leaned forward, meeting Bruce's eyes as he licked a long stripe up Harley's neck, "I could die happy."

Bruce's stomach turned sour. He didn't doubt the Jokers words, or his insanity- he was beat. Setting his jaw, he lowered his gun.

"Now slide it on over like a good boy," Harley purred, smiling to swipe her tongue along the line of her top front teeth.

Joker slipped one of Harley's bra straps down off her shoulder. "I suggest you listen to the lady. God, she can be so..." His voice raised in pitch, the next word from his mouth almost forced. " _Bad_."

Once Bruce did as he was told, Joker commanded him to sit in a nearby chair. When he did, Harley strutted over, binding him in smiley-face duct tape and metal chains until escape proved impossible.

"You've got me right where you want me," Bruce bit out after a minute of futile struggling. "Why don't you just kill me?"

Joker chuckled, the sound low and rich as Harley returned and kneeled before him to undo his belt with her teeth. "Oh but where's the fun in that? Besides, tonight is a _very_ special night. Isn't it, Harls?" He looked down, stroking one of Harley's silky pony tails as she nuzzled at the hard line of his cock beneath his pants.

"Well I should say so," Harley said, turning her head so the Bat could watch her run her tongue up Joker's cloth covered length. "Anniversaries only come once a year, and Puddin' always gives me the best gifts."

Bruce grimaced and looked away, stomach sinking.

"Ah ah ah," Joker reprimanded.

Batsy wouldn't get away that easy, what with how long he'd had Harley locked away in Bella Reve.

Taking away the one thing that was precious to him was the Bats first mistake, and an egregious one at that. But that was nothing compared to the second mistake. No one put a hand on Harley, she was his Queen. _His_. And now the Bat would pay for it.

"You'll look, you'll watch, or this place blows."

"Mmm," Harley said with a giggle, fishing Joker's hard cock from his pants. "Blow. I like the sound of that." Then, in a second, she had swallowed down as much of his length as she could.

Joker groaned and threw his head back, digging his fingers into Harley's hair. "That's a good girl," he panted, meeting Bruce's eyes as he shoved his cock down Harley's throat. "Come to Daddy."

Harley flailed for a second, but quickly composed herself, gazing up at Joker with nothing but adoration. Soon, she was gagging, tears cascading down her face from the onslaught upon her throat. But she didn't move, didn't protest, just sat there as Joker fucked her face.

Bruce strained again against his bindings, not daring a glance away from the scene. Wide eyed, he watched as Joker pushed Harley down on his length and held her in place, blocking her airway. Harley did nothing but shove her hand into her panties, almost as if she didn't mind she couldn't breathe. Her face began to turn blue, but all she did was increase the speed at which her fingers moved inside herself.

"Stop!" Bruce said, straining to move. He knew Harley was just as mad as the Joker, knew she was equally as dangerous, but nobody deserved to die like that. "You'll kill her!"

The Joker did nothing but laugh, the cruel sound covering Harley's weakened gags. He laughed until he couldn't breathe, and only released Harley off his cock when her eyes began to flutter shut.

Harley gasped, collapsing onto the floor in a coughing fit. Bruce thought she was really hurt, that Joker had never gone so far before, and for a moment felt a twinge of sympathy for the woman. It was gone as soon as it came.

Softly, a giggle floated up through the air. "Mmm, _Mistah J_ ," Harley purred, daintily wiping a string of saliva swinging from her chin. "You know how 'ta treat a girl right."

"You're damn right, honey," Joker growled, hauling her up by her armpits as if she weighed nothing.

Unable to do anything but watch and wait for the pair to finish, Bruce looked on in horror as they fornicated over his sheets.

As soon as he'd thrown Harley onto the bed, Joker cut carelessly through the material of her bra and panties with a large serrated blade. Cackling, he shoved the wad of purple lace into Harley's mouth and slammed into her.

The fucking Joker gave was brutal, but Harley gave it right back, meeting his every unforgiving thrust with one of her own. Her nails scratched down his back hard enough to draw blood, and in response Joker bit into every inch of skin he could get to.

It was messy, bloody and sweaty and loud, the two panting and groaning between amused cackles as they glanced over to him.

Joker finished with a loud shout, yanking Harley's head back by her hair as he did.

Harley followed suit, arching up with a cry as she squirt over Joker's softening cock and abdomen.

A few minutes later, Joker looked down at Harley. "You always were so messy. What did I say..." Joker paused, cupping Harley's face in a gesture that bordered on tender. "About messes?"

Wordlessly, Harley slid down to lick the Joker clean.

* * *

"Well, Batsy, I've gotta say, this has been _loads_ of fun! But, I think we've outstayed out welcome," Joker said, buttoning his crimson shirt as Harley fixed her hair beside him. "You'll stay here and keep an eye on the place, won't ya?"

Harley considered Joker for a moment before stepping towards Bruce, brandishing a curved knife. "I don't know, Puddin'. Don't you think we should help him with that?"

Joker smoothed his hair back. "Harley, Harley, Harley... Baby, you do whatever your little heart desires."

Bruce Wayne was found two days later, barely breathing. Policemen swarmed around him, looking on in horror at the 'haha' carved into his chest and the bat symbol scraped onto his forehead. They were asking what happened, who did it, but all the billionaire could do was stare at the center of his bed.

A single eye gazed back at him.


End file.
